Who Has to Know?
by Laced With Acid
Summary: England debates on whether or not an ALFRED F. JONES unit is right for him. Based slightly off Lollidictator's unit fics.
1. Chapter 1

_Is this…wrong? _England questioned himself.

_Oh, bloody hell. Don't be daft, of course it's wrong!_

He stared at his illuminated computer screen. The neon green "HETALIA UNITS" standing out from the rest of the webpage made his stomach churn and yet…he could not look away. There was a whole list of country units, himself included, that he could look at if he just scrolled. It sickened him a bit, knowing that regular citizens had access to models that looked, sounded, and behaved like real nations.

It sickened him…yet it also filled him with a kind of twisted glee. He could buy a unit if he wanted. He could purchase a companion that could satisfy his loneliness in a way that none of the real nations could.

In a way America couldn't.

England's hand hovered over the mouse, wondering what would happen if he clicked "purchase." Would…would it really be so bad to have a…a unit as a companion? He really did miss Alf-America. And besides his magical friends, he didn't have anyone to talk to.

"Oh, bugger it all." England mumbled, exiting out of the homepage. "What would the other nations think if they found out?"

_What would America think of me?_

England flushed, the thought of being discovered by America was too embarrassing to even think about. He could already imagine the scenario of what would happen if he was found out.

_America would walk in, unsuspecting, with a hamburger and shake, greet England with a hard whack on the back, and laugh obnoxiously. He would proclaim that he was the hero while flailing his arms in that attracti-annoying way of his. Then the ALFRED F. JONES unit would walk out._

"_DUDE! You bought a unit! OF ME?"_

"_HAHAHA!"_

"_Holy shi-. England, I hate you and will never speak to you again!" America would walk out the door, and his unit counterpart will shout some obscenities saying how he is the 'original hero.'_

Yes, England resolved to himself, that is exactly how it would happen.

He swiveled in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, suddenly finding it fascinating. He groaned as he ran his hands through his hair, wondering if there was a magical spell for keeping units invisible. Then he wouldn't have to worry.

England turned back to his computer and reopened the website. His fingers drummed themselves on his desk as he sat there in thought. Really, the whole idea of getting a unit was absurd. But a greater part of him shouted, "Buy one! Buy one!" He let his hand hover over the mouse once more.

Really, a thousand pounds for a lifetime companion wasn't too unreasonable was it? And it was made by a reliable company, right? He could always just send it back if the unit proved to be dysfunctional, too much of a hassle, or if he was too worried to be found out. Right? Right.

England nodded to himself before clicking "add to cart."

A second window popped up asking, "Would you like to continue shopping?"

England hastily clicked 'no' and was brought to the checkout page. There it was, in clear print. ALFRED F. JONES unit. Quantity: 1. 1,000 pounds.

"Bloody hell, I've gone mad."

England clicked "check out" and entered in his billing information.

Your ALFRED F. JONES unit will arrive within two to five business weeks. Thank you for shopping at Flying Mint Bunny Co. We hope you enjoy your purchase and that we'll be doing business with you again soon.

_Yes, _England thought, _I've gone bloody mad._

But, then again, who has to know?

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><p><strong>AN: Right. So, after reading 60+ spin-offs of Lollidictator's unit manuals, I thought to myself: What would happen if units were available to the nation-tans? And I produced this. ._. **

**/hides in shame.**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been exactly 3 weeks 2 days 4 hours 17 minutes and 57 seconds since England ordered his ALFRED F. JONES unit to when he finally received it.

It was a rather dreary day in England. The skies were raining cats and dogs and England was inside his home, reading a mystery while drinking some Earl Grey. He had nearly forgotten that he even ordered a unit in the first place. The memory seemed to have faded once the first week had gone by. When his doorbell rang, he thought nothing of the situation as he set down his teacup and answered the door.

"Ah, hello?"

The man at the door gave him a once over before clearing his throat, "May I please speak with the resident of this house?"

"That would be me." England couldn't help but take notice of the man's shirt. It was a pastel green shade…almost…mint-colored. "Can I help you?"

"I should have specified. May I speak to your owner?" The man looked at his clipboard, "Though…I don't recall any deliveries to this house…especially not an ARTHUR KIRKLAND…"

"I don't have an owner you bloody twat."

The man let his jaw go slack for a moment. "I see. Gosh, they make these units so real these days." He poked England's cheeks a few times. "I mean, the new vocabulary database and the life-like skin. Really…"

England snatched the clipboard and signed it. "I'm not a bloody unit you tosser. I'm the real thing."

The man gave him a sort of pitying look. "Ah, well…I guess that's what you start to think after a while."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I suppose since you signed this I'll just leave the package with you and let your owner deal with opening the box. Make sure to give her…or him I guess…the bill, alright?"

England didn't get the chance to answer. The man in the mint-colored shirt wheeled in a crate, handed England a small package, tipped his hat, and left. England cleared his throat and looked around the room to make sure he was completely alone before opening the smaller package.

Inside was a manual with a neon 'ALFRED F. JONES' title. England inhaled slowly. He was really going to open the box. No turning back now.

He flipped through the manual and scanned the first page.

"Name, Alfred F. Jones. Will reply to USA, America, Hero, Al, Jones, and…Oi Fucktard? Well, I must give this company points on their accuracy…Now then…age is twenty, made in New York, is six foot one, weight fluctuates, length…" England's face began heating up as he hastily skipped a few pages to the unpackaging instructions. "Ahem, right now. Play the anthem, play a superhero cartoon, speak with a British…accent."

England dropped the manual and looked at the box in horror, only to find that it was too late. The crate was shaking violently and England could already hear a faint, "Iggy! Is that you?"

England swallowed his pride and walked over to the crate, which was still shaking. He quickly pried it open, allowing for the unit inside to topple out onto the floor. England was at a loss for words, but the ALFRED F. JONES unit was not.

"Sup dude! I didn't know there was an Artie at this place. Usually they tell us what other units to expect when we're shipped to a new family."

England's mouth felt incredibly dry. The eyes were just as blue, the skin was just as tan, and he still had that adora-annoying Nantucket cowlick. The voice, the posture, the mannerisms. Everything about this ALFRED F. JONES unit was exactly like the original.

"Uh, dude? You ok? Hey, where's the lucky guy or gal we're staying with."

"Actually…it's uh…just myself."

The ALFRED F. JONES unit eyed England very carefully. "What? They let units live out on their own now?"

"I'm England."

"And I'm America, but that didn't really answer my question."

"No lad. I meant that I'm the real England. I'm not a unit like you are."

The unit was silent for a few seconds before breaking out into a large grin. "Man, you're pulling my leg, aren't you? I wasn't aware that the ARTHUR KIRKLAND unit had a version with a sense of humor. HAHAHA, but seriously, quit busting my balls and tell me where our owner has gone off to."

"I'm being serious."

The grin slowly faded off of the ALFRED F. JONES unit's face. He stood very slowly and he made his way towards England.

"You're the real United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland?"

"In the flesh."

The unit swallowed. Then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It was shocking for England to see America act so bashfully. The unit gave a short whistle before speaking again. "So…why'd you order me? Can't you just jump the lake and see the real America?"

"W-well. It's not as easy as that you know."

"No, I don't know."

England glanced at the floor. "O-oh. Well, it isn't. Seeing Al-America outside of meetings and such is quite difficult. So I…ordered you. To keep me company. Is all."

The unit glanced awkwardly to the side. "I…see. Damn, you got issues. Do you like, have a thing for the real me? Cuz, even though my manual says 'Length' I don't actually-"

"That's enough!" England interrupted. "I…didn't order you for _that_. I just…oh, I don't know. It seemed like such a good idea at the time."

The America unit looked at England a bit sympathetically before reaching over and slapping him on the back. "Well, dude, it usually does, but hey, you've got a hero now!" He paused, mulling something over for a moment before saying, "Let's celebrate by hitting up a McDonalds! I'll pay!"

"Erm. That's quite alright. Besides, there isn't a McDonalds for miles in this part of England. Sorry to disappoint you."

"HAHAHA, that's alright buddy. HEY, where's Tony?"

The unit scurried back to his box and started digging through the packaging peanuts. England looked at him curiously, with furrowed eyebrows. The unit finally seemed to find what he was looking for though, as he pulled out a small box.

"Tony, you in there?"

The box rattled a bit. The unit opened the lid and a little grey alien hopped out. He looked around the room and crossed his arms.

"Ah, Tony. Don't be like that. Hey, meet my pal England."

The alien looked in England's general direction, but didn't say anything. England managed a small wave before saying, "Hello there."

"Fucking. Fucking. Fucking. Fucking."

"HAHAHA, man, Tony, I think you're right." The America unit crushed England in a bear hug. "I think we're gonna like it here too."

…_how the bloody hell did he figure that out; all I heard was fucking…_

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><p><strong>Yup. Made a second chapter. I think I might make one or two more after this.<strong>

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